Before I Go
by Sweet A.K
Summary: Pre28 Weeks Later. All soldiers leave something behind when they deploy, but what did Sergeant Doyle leave? Complete, Epilogue now up.
1. Chapter 1

Pre- 28 weeks Later.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the Ocs.

The names of the songs I post here are just suggested listening, they're the songs I happen to be listening to when I wrote this.

"I'll Be" Edwin McCain

"... and these are my men." Sergeant Doyle's CO said as he approached the group of soldiers. Doyle went to salute the Lieutenant, but stopped short as he saw the woman who stood next him. His breath sped up and he felt as if his heart was going to beat through his chest. His mind was lost, not able to think, to function, or even to tell him to breath. His stomach jumped into his throat, making him want to cry, laugh, and vomit all at the same time.

"Sergent Doyle, are you alright?" His Lieutenant asked him. He blinked rapidly as the blood rushed back into his brain. He stuttered a pitiful, "ye-ye-yes s-s-sir," and a somewhat sloppy salute before regaining a sense of where he was. The woman was looking oddly at him with one eyebrow raised and a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Lieutenant Harris, may I speak with you a moment, sir?" One of the men asked. Harris nodded and squeezed the womans shoulder before walking to his office.

"Are you sure you're alright, Sergent?" The woman asked. Oh shit! He'd been staring and, he felt a trickle on the corner of his mouth, drooling? Oh God! Slight panic settled in and he had to mentally shake himself.

"Yes ma'am. Sorry." He heard laughter from behind him. So much for having each other's backs.

"Sorry for what?" She asked, confused.

"W-w-w-w-" He stuttered, what was he sorry for? Looking at her? Drooling? Falling head over heals for her? "W-w-what I meant was... I mean I... I-I-I," he let out a nervous breath of air. "Hi. I'm Sergent Doyle." Oh God, did he just wave at her? What a spaz. He would have hit himself in the head had it not have probably made things worse.

"Yeah, I was kind of aware of that." She grinned.

"How did you, I mean you-"

"Your patch." She pointed to his chest where 'Doyle' was stitched onto a patch that he had meticulously sewed onto all of his uniforms, and then to the rank sewed onto his sleeve.

"oh, yeah... right." He nervously scratched the back of his neck which had turned red with embarrassment. The barely concealed snorts of laughter from behind him got louder. "I-I... I'll just be going... now." He did the spaztastic little wave again then turned and fled to the group of his laughing comrades."

"What did you do to my Sargent?" He faintly heard over the gales of laughter and the sounds of his friends slapping him on the back.

"I... I have no idea..."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the OCs. Please review

"Ain't Nothing Bout You" Brooks and Dunn.

Doyle smoothed over his hair for the hundredth time since leaving post. He and the rest of the platoon were on their way to Harris' house for a company BBQ. The girl, who he had found out to be the Lt.'s sister, would be there. He had made such a bad impression the last time that he was bound and determined to make it up to her. Besides, he hadn't been able to sleep without seeing her face, her eyes haunted him during maneuvers, he voice tickled his ears when he was at the range. She flooded him and it was driving him mad.

"Hey, loverboy!" One of the guys called from the front of the van. "Loverboy!" everyone else crooned as well. It was an unfortunate name that he had obtained fallowing the events of the other day. He wrinkled his nose and gave a great fake smile to his laughing friends, while smacking the closest ones on the head. "Loverboy, try coming up with something a little more suave then, 'Duh-duh-duh-hi!'" everyone laughed harder.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck you too." Doyle flipped him the bird and set back in his seat with a huff, ignoring the laughs, taunts, and random cries of "LOVERBOY!" for the rest of the drive. They pulled of to the side of the street in front of a modest size house. There was smoke and music coming from the back yard. As they got closer to the house, they could hear laughter and boisterous talking coming from within. Doyle and the men walked around the side and through the open gate. Harris waved them in, spatula in one hand and Coors Light in the other. After the common courtesies of greet the Lt. and thanking him for the invite, he grabbed a beer and drank it while casually casting glances about the yard, looking for the woman who had bewitched him.

His attention was diverted, however, when one of the guys squawked, "Loverboy!" at the top of his lungs. He flipped the bird in the general area the voice had come from, unable to think of an intelligent comeback. Not seeing the woman anywhere, he settled back and drank his beer, wonder why she might not be here. Something could have happened, pressing matters could have called her away... she could have seen him coming and decided she would be safer hiding in the house... the possibilities were endless. These thoughts raced through his mind as a young girl caught his attention. Not in the way the woman had, but he admitted she wasn't hard to look at, but she couldn't have been older than 16. She was surrounded by guys that were twice her age, and looked extremely uncomfortable. He took a swig from his beer and handed it to Andy, the guy who started the whole 'loverboy' thing, and made his way over to the girl.

"Hey," he pushed his way through the circle of soldiers and stood in front of the girl. "Your mom told me to come find you. She said she needs your help in the kitchen with... hell, something food related or something."

"hu- oh!" Realization came over the girls face. "Oh, right. Better go and see what she wants. Excuse me guys." She looked at Doyle, gratitude written all over her face. "Thank you," and rushed off. He smiled at the men as they groaned and spread out back into the crowd. Mentally checking 'saving a damsel in distress' off his checklist of things to do before he died, he turned around and came face to face with the one person he had been looking for.

"Nice to see you again, Sargent Doyle." She smiled warmly at him.

"Uh- you too, ma'am." He managed with only a small stutter. The feeling came back to him in full force, the one he felt when he saw her for the first time. But he wasn't going to let it get the better of it like it did last time. He was better prepared for it this time. She moved her hair from her eyes and smiled a little bigger at him.

"Thank you, Sargent," she put her hand out in front of her. "For what you just did." He nodded and clasped her hand, reveling in the silky softness of her small hand, but was surprised to find it as cold as ice.

"You're welcome." He grinned stupidly. "For what?"

She let out a soft laugh. "That girl you just help, she's my little cousin. I was on my way over here, but it looks like you beat me to it."

"It was nothing." He realized he was still holding her hand and dropped it as if it were on fire. Smooth.

"uhm-" she blinked, warm smile dropping and then being replaced with a small fake one. "Well, thank you." She turned and walk briskly away from him. This time he did slap himself on the forehead. Several time, in fact, repeating "stupid, stupid, stupid," over and over again like a mantra.

"Smooth." George Flynn, a helicopter pilot and Doyle's best friend, said as he came over and patted him on the back. "Very Smooth... you sure you're not a virgin?" Doyle groaned and slammed the back of his head against one of the beams of the porch. "I mean, if this is how you impress the ladies then-"

"George! You leave poor Chris alone!" A very beautiful woman with a small boy clinging to her skirts scolded Flynn. "Can't you see the boy's in love?" She smacked George on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, baby." George said to her and pulled her in for a kiss.

"you better tell him that." She said as she playfully pushed him away. Doyle would never admit it out loud, but he was envious of what George and his wife had. It was obvious how much in love they were.

"I'm sorry, baby!" George exclaimed and tried to kiss Doyle on the cheek. Doyle struggled to push the bigger man off of him. Laughing, he put George in a headlock and then pushed him away.

"I need a drink!"

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Doyle jealously watched as a couple of officers flirted with the woman. He glared hard and viscously took a drink of his beer causing himself to choke. Flynn laughed and slapped him on the back. Even Flynn's wife, Janet, has to chuckle.

"If you really like her that much, then just go over and talk to her." Janet said kindly.

"I would, but every time I'm around her, my mind just goes blank and i end up looking like fucking moron." He shook his head and looked away. His attention was soon diverted to the same young girl from earlier. She was sitting by herself with a bottle of beer in her hand. He mad his way over to the girl, Janet and Flynn following him out of curiosity.

"Hey there." He stood next to her causing her to jump up in surprise. On seeing him her face relaxed.

"Oh, hey." She stuck her hand out. "I'm Sarah, Sarah Prince."

"I'm Cris Doyle, and this is Janet and George Flynn." He shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you. Listen, thanks for rescuing me earlier. Those guys just kinda surrounded me. I felt like I was a rotting carcass being circled by starving vultures."

"That's an... interesting euphemism." George said, glancing at his wife.

"Oh yeah, huh, my cousin says stuff like that sometimes... I guess she kinda tends to rub off on me." The girl took a sip of her beer and made a face.

"Does your cousin know you're drinking beer?" Doyle asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I don't think she'd care, she's cool like that. Besides she started drinking when she was my age." Sarah took another, smaller sip. Doyle snorted, he could tell she was trying way too hard to be cool.

"Are you sure about that?" He asked as the woman came up with a cup in her hand. Doyle stared at her until he felt Janet's heel go through his foot. The woman smiled at them, lingering slightly as her gaze came to him... or so he hoped. It could have just been wishful thinking.

"Everything good here?" She asked as she slipped the beer from Sarah's hand and replaced it with the cup that was full of lemonade.

"Hey!" Sarah exclaimed.

"You're too young to go and start drinking." she told her and took a sip of the beer, she wrinkled her nose and Doyle felt as if his heart would stop right then and there. "And when you do start, you need something better then Red Stripe."

"I'm seventeen! How old were you when you started drinking?" Sarah grumped.

"Sixteen-" The girl started to protest. "But that's different."

"Oh yeah? How." Sarah crossed her arms and huffed.

"Because I didn't have an older cousin who loved me and was there to look out for me, I had Mr. 'hey you wanna try some vodka in your orange juice!' over there," she pointed to Harris. "And beside... your mom scares me." She said flatly, but her eyes twinkled. Sarah glared and punched her.

"Ow!" She laughed, and Doyle's heart did stop beating. The heavens opened and angles sang. He must have been staring again because this time Janet's heel was ground into his foot. "You know, for a little girl you punch damn hard." She laughed as she avoided another hit.

"Hi, I'm Janet." Flynn's wife greeted the woman of Doyle's dreams. "This is my husband, George." Flynn shook her hand and she smiled in greeting. "And this is Chris, Chris-"

"Doyle, yes, we've met." Her smile faltered a bit and Doyle could have killed himself. He knew he had to do something.

"Look, I'm sorry about today... and the other day. You just... just..." Oh no! Here comes the verbal diarrhea. Even Janet and Flynn knew it, he could see them cringe out of the corner of his eye. "You fluster me. You're so beautiful, and amazing and I want to be all James Bondish debonair and come in and sweep you off your feet and I end up making an ass of myself because your so pretty. I mean, I've know much prettier women- not that you're not pretty, but you're not- I mean you are, but you're not!" She shook her head and looked at him in confusion. "Oh God, I mean- I don't mean- You're not ugly! God, you are so not ugly- you're so far," he gestured far with his arms waving wildly, "far from ugly- but you're not pretty." He stopped gave a slightly hysterical chuckle and took a deep breath. "This is not coming out right at all, is it?" To his immense relief, she gave a small laugh.

"I think its going great," she joked. "Girls always like to hear that they aren't as pretty as other other girls you've met. But don't tell anyone I told you that. It's the biggest secret known to women kind and if they find out I told you the secret society of the women's justice league might send frilly pink ninjas to beat me up with their micro-purses." Doyle laughed and sighed deeply.

"What I was trying to say," he went slower and remembered to breath this time. "It that all the other girls I met were pretty, but you are so beautiful you knock the sense out of me." He was pleased to see a slight tint of pink come to her cheeks.

"Not that it's hard to do, really. The boy's not got much sense to begin with." Flynn laughed as his wife smacked him on the shoulder.

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That night, Doyle lay in his bed, unable to sleep with the giddy feeling that overwhelmed him.

"Ann." He whisper the name like a prayer. It was heavy and sweet on his tongue. He turned over and tried to to force himself to fall asleep, he had a big day coming up. But try as he might, he just couldn't make his brain stop.

They had spent the rest of the day together, talking and laughing. She had smiled at him and he knew that this was it. She was the one he was going to spend the rest of his life with. He nearly laughed with happiness when remembered their parting words.

"I'd like to see you again." Doyle said nervously.

"When?" His heart soared with happiness.

"I'm off tomorrow." She grinned and leaned in closer to him.

"The pick me up, here... and make sure you have a car with a BIG back seat... and don't be late" She winked.

Doyle was still smiling as he closed his eyes and finally let sleep take him over.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I only own the OCs.

"Crystal" Stevie Nicks

Doyle arrived at Harris' house three minutes passed noon and he now stood outside the door nervously playing with the bouquet of roses in his hand. The door opened to someone he didn't expect.

"You're late." A small girl with clear signs of Downs Syndrome scolded him.

"I'm... sorry?"

"You should be!" She scolded again, then dragged him by the bottom of his shirt into the house.

"You three minutes and nineteen seconds late!" He was berated by two more kids with Downs as well. He heard laughter and saw Ann leaning against the wall.

"I told you not to be late." She grinned. Then turned to the three little kids. "Ready for the movie?" she asked clapping her hands together.

"Yeah!" the three kids yelled and ran for the car Doyle had "borrowed" from Andy.

She smiled as she passed Doyle. "Coming Sergeant?"

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"Don't run!" Ann called to the three kids as she and Doyle stood in line at the concession stand. She laughed and once again he felt himself fill with the undeniable realization that he was going to spend the rest of his life with this woman.

"So..." Doyle started.

"Oh! Did I forget to tell you something?" she feigned innocence. Doyle laughed.

"You know, I get the feeling you did." She laughed.

"The lady across the street takes in mentally challenged children. She had to take one of them to a specialist today, but the office is a three hour drive, so I volunteered to watch the other three so she wouldn't have to haul them around in the car for so long." She looked at him sheepishly.

"And I was just a pawn in your game." Doyle accused playfully as she placed their order.

"Well yes... but a very cute pawn."

He laughed, "I guess I can deal with that." She grinned and picked up the three snack packs and he grabbed the two cokes and large popcorn.

Doyle had to admit that this wasn't exactly the first date he had in mind, but it wasn't a bad one either. He smiled as the kids laughed and sang along with the talking animals on the screen.

"Haven't seen this one yet, have they." He whispered sarcastically. She laughed quietly.

"No, not at all. This is certainly not the four time they've been or anything like that." She played along.

"Shhhhh!" the youngest of the three, and only girl, scolded the two adults. She and Doyle snorted with silent laughter. He reached for a handful of popcorn, but brushed up against something soft and cold.

"Sorry." He said but didn't pull his hand away, it was okay though, because she did seem to mind, considering she didn't move hers either. Suddenly the movie, the the smell of burnt popcorn, even the sound of a hundred screaming kids all faded to the background. All he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears and the feel of her skin against his. Inhaling deeply he breathed her in, a flowery soothing scent enveloped his senses. Slowly he slid his fingers so they entwined themselves with hers and felt her twist her hand slightly, locking her fingers with his. A small content smile caressed his face as he breathed like it was the first time he had ever done so.

"You know, I've seen this movie twice... and I have to admit, it's better the second time around." His smile widened.

"Yeah, well, I'd have to say it's right up there with my top picks at the moment."

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Doyle couldn't help smiling as he watched Ann play tag with the three kids. After the movie the group had retreated to a small children's park and let the kids run free. He had found himself deep in a pleasant conversation with Ann, her hand still clasp firmly in his own, when she had been forcibly dragged from him and thrown into the midst of the game. He watched as she picked one of them up and spun him around in a circle before setting him down and laughed as she was forcibly dragged to the ground and sat on by the three youngsters.

"Help!" She cried dramatically while reaching her hand out to him. He ran over and yelled just as dramatically.

"No! My love! I will avenge you! You shall not have died in vain!"

"Well I'm not dead yet... I could be getting better." She wheezed out a laugh.

"Oh... in that case." He wrestled the three giggling kids off and pick her up bridal style.

"Oh my brave Knight! You saved me from the terrible three headed dragon beast! How ever shall I repay you!"

"A kiss!" the little girl cried.

"Why would he want that!" one of the boys cried in disgust.

"Cause that's what happens in the story!" She insisted. "The prince has to kiss the princess so they can live happily ever after."

"Well," Doyle grinned and gently put her down. He moved his hands to either side of her jaw, caressing the sensitive area between the ears and neck. His thumbs ran over her cheeks and he brought her face closer to his. "We wouldn't want to ruin the story." He whispered, lips so close to hers he could feel the heat. He gently closed the gap and pressed their lips together in the tender sweet touch that only come from the first kiss. He felt her hands come up and tangle themselves in his hair, running through it softly before coming to rest at the back of his neck playing with the small baby hairs the lay there. Slowly, he parted from her and struggled to catch his breath, leaning his forehead against hers and staring down into those deep dark eyes. He moved his arms down to her waist and hers slipped down to his shoulders. They stood holding each other and breathing the other in.

"EEEWWW!" The two boys groaned while the little girl giggled madly. The two lovers laughed, breaking the trance they were in. Doyle kissed her soft hair before turning to the kids.

"Anyone for ice cream?" he asked. He was met with screams of joy from the three kids who ran over to the vendor and started asking the man what flavors he had. Doyle turned back to Ann and smiled.

"So, have I made up for calling you 'not pretty'?" She laughed.

"I think you've more than made up for it."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I only own what I make up, everything else is not mine.

Please review!

"Dirty Girl" Terri Clark; "She's Everything" Brad Paisley

12 Weeks Later

Doyle sat cleaning and preparing his M4 to take it to the shooting range when their CO came back from his meeting. The movements came with an air of the practiced ease of a man who could do it without thinking about it. In fact, his mind wasn't on the cleaning. For the past few months, he found his thoughts were on one and only one subject.

He and Ann had been together for three months last Saturday. He smiled to himself. She had become everything to him since their first date with the 'three terrors,' as he's come to call them, to their last date that had ended up with them dancing in the middle of the food court just so he could see the blush that lit up her cheeks. They had learned much about each other in that period of time, but he was still surprised to learn that she was a very mechanical person and enjoyed taking things apart just so she could see how they work and if she could but them back together.

So it was really no surprise when she, Harris, and what appeared to be their mother, grandmother, and grandfather came in while he was in the middle of reassembling his gun. She coyly slipped from the group and walked over to Andy, who was grumbling about not being able to fit the monkey wrench to the bolt of the transmission he was working on. She grinned as she took the tool from him, dug in the tool box, and pulled out a torx wrench and placed one of the hex sockets on it.

"Try this one." He glared at the offending item but grabbed it none the less.

"I've already looked in there and nothing fits this bolt." He protested as he slipped it over the bolt. "I swear its just going to str-" he cut him self short as he turned the ratchet and the bolt loosened. He glared at the woman. "Thanks." he said shortly as the rest of the guys barely contained their laughter.

"That's my girl." Doyle said to Flynn as he slammed the last piece of his gun in place. Ann looked over at him and winked. He grinned and made a kissing gesture at her.

"Ann!" her mom called, she gave her mom the one minute sign before mouthing "6 o'clock" to Doyle. He nodded and held up six fingers. She gave him a thumbs up and ran to catch up with her family.

"Meeting the family tonight, huh?" Flynn grinned.

"Yeah, her mom, grandparents, and her dad."

"The Colonel?" Doyle nodded. Flynn suck in air through his teeth. "You're a braver man then I." He patted Doyle on the back.

"You had to meet Janet's dad at one point didn't you?" Doyle asked.

"Yeah, but he's a Baptist preacher, not a 200 pound ex-cop and current CO of the artillery unit." He leaned back and propped his feet on the table. "The worst Larry could do was sick the choir on me. If you piss her dad off, he could set you in front of a Howitzer and KAMBLAM!" he slammed his foot down on the table.

"Fuck you, man."

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"Hey you." Ann greeted as she pulled Doyle into a hug.

"Hey, baby." He kissed her head. "Everything alright?" She shook her head and buried her face in his shoulder.

"They're driving me insane." She groaned into his neck. He laughed.

"Families tend to do that, babe." She moaned and buried herself deeper into his shoulder.

"Ann, dear, I-" A woman in her late forties came out the door. "Oh, you must be the young man Ann's been seeing!" Ann pulled her face from his shoulder and stepped, reluctantly, from his embrace. Doyle was instantly sorry for the loss of the warmth and love he felt whenever they embraced. "Well, aren't you going to introduce us?" Her mom questioned.

"Mom," Ann made a face only he could see before turning to the older woman. " This is Chris Doyle. Chris, this is my mom, Carol."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." Doyle gently shook her hand.

"Please, call me Carol. None of this fussy ma'am business. It makes me feel like an old granny. Not the attractive woman I really am." She fluffed her hair flirtatiously. Doyle saw Ann hit her forehead out of the corner of his eye.

"Let's go inside and meet the rest of the freak show, shall we?" Ann said as she opened the door and ushered her mom in. She looked sheepishly at Doyle, but he just smiled and held the door open for her, grabbing her hand as she walked in.

He was, however, unsurprised to find a man of around the same age as her mother sitting on the couch with a cleaning cloth in one hand and a Desert Eagle in the other.

"Oh God..." He heard Ann whisper, exasperated.

"Dear, this is Chris Doyle... Ann's new boy toy." Carol said as she straddled the arm of the couch. Doyle felt the grip Ann had on his hand tighten.

"Chris," she looked apologetically up at him, "this is my dad, Dan Harris."

"That's Colonel Harris to you son." He growled.

"Dad!" She warned. The Colonel just click the safety of his gun off and stood up to an impressive... and oppressive, 6'5" height, towering over Doyle's 5'10" frame.

"Doyle... what kind of name is that?" The Colonel asked.

"Um..." He was at a loss for words. He looked to Ann, who was glaring at her father.

"I think it's Scottish, dad." She glared at him in warning. Her dad nodded, put the safety back on, and placed his gun in a holster at his hip.

"I'm watching you." The Colonel warned, bringing his two fingers to his eyes, then pointing at Doyle.

"Dan! Stop acting like an ass." A new voice said as it came into the room. "And go check on your son, he's out burning the steaks again."The Colonel nodded and walked with Carol out to the back yard. The new man was older, though he carried his age well. The large hand he stuck out to Doyle was a rough and calloused hand of a man who had spent his entire life working hard for everything he got.

"Robert Holt." He introduced himself.

"Chris Doyle." He returned, shaking the man's hand . He felt the grip on his other hand loosen and looked over to see that Ann's face had relaxed considerably.

"Chris, this is my Poppy. He and GranGran are the only other sane ones in the family."

"It's nice to meet the man that has made my baby so happy." His smile was kind and welcoming, unlike the others he had received so far.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Holt. I've heard a lot about you." In truth, the way Ann talked, he thought at first that she and Lt. Harris were raised by their "Poppy" and "GranGran" as she called them.

"Ruth, come in here a moment." Robert called, then turned back to Doyle. "And please, call me Rob." Doyle nodded and looked to the woman who had come into the room. "Ah, there you are! Chris, this is my wife, Ruth." He introduced. The woman was aged, but it was clear she was a great beauty at one time. Her face was lined around the mouth and at the corners of the eyes suggestion that she spent her life with a smile in her eyes and a laugh on her lips. Doyle could see that she and his Ann looked a almost identical to each other, except for the age difference. The both had the same small stature, same dark eyes, same high cheekbones, and same dark hair, though Ruth's hair was dotted with spots of gray, she still look surprisingly young for a women in her seventies.

"Ma'am." He greeted.

"Ruth, please. It is such a pleasure to meet you. I haven't seen Ann this happy in a very long time." She smiled over at Ann so warmly that he could almost feel the love radiate from it. Just then Jane, Harris' wife, came in and announced that dinner was ready.

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Doyle and Ann sat outside her apartment on a swing bench, laughing about the nights events.

Halfway though dinner, Doyle realized that the sanity Ann and Harris showed could not have conceivably come from either their mom or their dad. In fact, he was sure of the fact. Harris had always been one of the best Officers he had ever had, even if he was a "young buck" as Rob jokingly called him. But there was no way he could have learned any of what he knew about leading his men from his father. Harris was always a patient man, willing to listen to anything his men had to say. He was a kind but firm leader, and was the one of the most intelligent men he had ever met. He valued the more experienced NCOs' input and really listened to what Doyle and the other sergeants said to him. But he could tell that the Colonel was nothing like his son. Just the way he talked when Harris or Ann tried to tell him something. He treated them like they were stupid little children, and his wife just ignored everything and spent the night making eyes at him.

Rob and Ruth were the exact opposite. In fact, he had found out that the siblings had spent most of their time with their grandparents, who had raised them most of their lives so they wouldn't have to suffer through the nomadic life of army brats. He also found out that Rob had been an enlisted in the army when he was a young man, but had been honorably discharged after his term was up. He spent his life working hard labor jobs after hard labor jobs until her retired and bought a small ranch out in Colorado where he raised and bred horses, and kept rabbit for the sake of Ann, who loved the furry little balls of fluff. He learned that Rob and Ruth encouraged Ann to explore the inner workings of thing, and taught Harris that wisdom came with experience, not rank. They had taught both of the siblings that they should show common courtesy to everyone they came across, as well as teaching them old fashioned values, like cleaning up and dressing before they left the house, which explained why Ann would always wash her face and put on nicer clothes before she went anywhere. They were the real reason behind the honorable man who was his officer and the amazing woman who had captured his heart.

That night, before he left, Rob had taken him aside and spoke privately with him.

"You've made Ann very happy, you know that. She laughs and smiles more than I have seen in a long time."

"She's made me very happy too, sir." Doyle told him honestly.

"Well, good. Then you have my approval." Rob firmly shook his hand. "And when it comes to my baby, I don't give my approval lightly."

"Thank you, sir. It means a lot to me... but what about the Colonel?"

"What, that dumb ass." Rob jerked his thumb towards Dan. Doyle smiled and nodded. "What he thinks don't matter, if you could call it thinkin'. It's more like random brain farts." Doyle grinned at the older man. "What matters to me is that Ann likes you... that and the fact that John approves of you two."

"Lt. Harris approves of us?" Doyle asked, shocked. While Harris always respected him, he never openly accepted the relationship he and Ann had.

"Course he does. He just can't express it, since you are one of his men. It would complicate things."

"Yes, sir." Doyle couldn't help but feel a deep weight lifted from his shoulders. He was always a bit nervous about how the Lt. felt about him dating his baby sister.

"I just wanted to let you know, so don't let Dan and Carol get under your skin. Ann is nothing like them, thank goodness." Doyle found himself meeting the dark eyes of Ann, who stood looking over at them nervously while being assured of something by her grandmother. "Well, we don't want to keep those pretty ladies waiting now, do we?" Rob clapped him on the shoulder and led him over to the two women. Ann looked anxiously between him and her grandfather. Rob smiled and hugged her, whispering something in her ear that caused her to relax and return the smile. She pulled away from him and then hugged her grandma before embracing Doyle in a tight, loving hug. He breathed in her scent and closed his eyes contently.

"Lets get out of here." she said to him. They said their goodbyes, both getting loving hugs from Rob and Ruth, and left for her apartment where they found themselves sitting on the swinging bench, laughing about the nights events.

"I'm glad Poppy approves of you. I value his opinion most of all." She said as she snuggled into his side.

"I am too. He seems like a great man." Doyle agreed as he ran his hand through he hair.

"He is... just like his grandson."

"You know, the Lt. approves of us too."

"I know... he told me that ages ago." She laughed.

"You knew! And you didn't tell me?" She nodded. "Why?"

"Because, you're cute when you sweat."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own what I make up and nothing more.

You might have noticed that the rating for this chapter has brought this story up to an M.

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"Georgia Rain" Trisha Yearwood, "One Last Time" Chase Emery

5 Weeks Later.

"God damn it, Ann. I can't do this." Doyle almost yelled as he paced in front of the old truck.

"Can't do what?" She glared from her perch on the hood.

"This, fight. I'm leaving tomorrow. Do you really want the last moment we spend together to be in a fight?" he grabbed her face and looked into her eyes. What he saw broke his heart. In the time they had been together, he had never seen her cry. But now, those beautiful dark eye were filled with tears she was to stubborn to let drop. "Oh, baby." He pulled into his chest. "Oh, baby, baby, baby." He whispered in hair with a kiss. He pulled her face back and saw one small tear fall and trace a line down her cheek before he brushed it away with his thumb.

"I'm sorry," She whispered. "I'm sorry. I know you have to go, but I just have this... this feeling, deep in my chest."

"What kind of feeling, baby?" He asked, running his hand through her hair.

"Like you're not going to come back-"

"Oh baby, I-"

"-and I'm afraid I'm going to wake up one day and realize you're not going to be next to me." The tears dropped from her eyes like crystal raindrops.

"Baby, look at me. " He gently pulled her chin up so she was eye to eye with him. "I love you. Whether for just the next few hours, or for the next hundred years, I am going to spend the rest of my life with you." He brought her lips to his in a kiss so passionate and full of love that it left them gasping for breath. For the first time in his entire life, he was never more sure of anything...

"I love you." He whispered. She looked at him with wide, wondrous eyes.

"You... love me?" Doyle smiled and kissed her.

"I love you." Then he kissed her nose, her eyes, her cheeks, her chin, every place on her face. Repeating "I love you," after each kiss, before kissing her mouth once more.

"I love you too." She whispered. He had never felt so happy in his life. He slid her off the hood and held her to him, let her body meld to his. He wrapped one arm around her waist and cradled her head with the other. 

"God, I love you so much," he whispered and kissed her temple. They just held each other like they were hanging onto their last lifeline. They didn't notice the slow steady drops that started to fall around them. They didn't notice the flash of lightning that ripped across the sky. They didn't even notice the rumble that waved across the valley, shaking the earth and whipping the wheat field around them. It wasn't until they were soaked to the bone that they finally pulled away from each other, only leaving a breath length between their bodies. Doyle grinned.

"Dance with me." He whispered, tracing his hand up her arm, around the curve of her elbow, over her wrist, then clasping it with her hand. She smiled up at him as he started to dance them in slow steady circles. He laid his forehead against hers, staring into her dark eyes as the water ran down their bodies. They danced to the beat of the pattering rain and the percussion of the rolling thunder until the wind whipped up, causing a cold chill to run up their bodies.

"We should go." She whispered to him. He nodded and pulled her, laughing, in to the truck. He turned the key of the ignition as she slid into the passenger's seat. It revved, but didn't turn over. He tried again, but it still didn't turn over. He tried again, giving it gas as he turned the key, same result. He laughed and banged his head against the steering wheel.

"That's what I get for stealing Anderson's truck." he looked over at her, head still on the wheel. "You wouldn't happen to have your cell phone with you..." She reached her hand into her waterlogged jeans pocket, producing the object.

"Um... this could problematic." She said as she pressed the power button, only to be met with a blank screen. She turned to him. "Well, what about yours?" He laughed again.

"I canceled it, they terminated service about an hour ago." He watched as Ann bit her lip in concentration.

"There's an old farm house just over that hill, they might have a phone." She said. He shook his head and looked over at her. Reaching into the back he produced an old blanket and tarp.

"Well, we better get walking."

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"Hello?" Doyle called as he knocked on the worn, wooden door. "Hello!"

"I don't think anyone's home." Ann said as she peaked through the dusty windows. "Ever." she added. He looked in through the other window.

"I think I see a phone." He squinted. Then turned to Ann. "It might work." He shrugged.

"So what, we're just going to break an entering?"

"Well, yeah. Why not?" He grinned. She laughed.

"Boy, if Pappy knew what a terrible influence you are on me..." He laughed as he turned the knob.

"Hey, look." he said as he pushed it open. "It's unlocked." He grabbed her hand and walked in. "Hello?" he called. No answer. He looked over to the old phone that still had the turn-dial. He pointed it out to Ann who raised her eyebrow. "It might work." He defended. She rolled her eyes but motioned him forward. "Pessimist." he teased.

"Realist." She corrected. He grinned at her as he picked up the phone and turned the dial. "Well?"

"It's dead." He put it back in the cradle. She laughed and pulled him into a kiss.

"What are we going to do now?"

"Well, we could walk back into town." The thunder clashed hard, shaking the foundation of the house, and the lightning lit the room up as if it were day. 

"And option two?" She asked.

"Option two? Well, option two is we stay here and let the storm blow over." The thunder trumpeted again, followed closely by the lightning. "Option two." they agreed at the same time. "Well, lets see what we have here." Doyle said as he started rooting around the cupboards. They were bare excepted for a few cans of rotten food. He pulled open a few draws until, "Aha! Found some matches." He rattled the box towards Ann in triumph.

"I found some firewood." She added, holding a couple of logs in her arms.

"Well, at least we won't freeze to death." He walked over to Ann and took the wood from her. He placed them in the fireplace as she brought over a couple more. He opened the box of matches and took one out. "Hun, see if you can find anything to use as kindling." She nodded and walked around the room before coming back with a couple of pieces of old newspaper. "Perfect." He kissed her then struck the match and lit the paper. He placed the burning paper under the logs and added a few more scraps until the fire roared to life illuminating the dusty one room cabin they found themselves in. It was bare except for a few rickety old chairs and the end table where the phone sat.

"Here," Ann said as she pulled him up and unfolded the blanket. They had used it when they were walking to keep them warm and had put the tarp on top of it to keep it and them from getting wet. He grabbed the other end and they spread it in front of the fire. Doyle flopped down on the blanket then pulled Ann down next to him, using his feet to take off his waterlogged boots and socks.

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I thought about spending my last night with you." He sighed into her neck as he nuzzled the tender place between it and her shoulder.

"Yeah, and what did you have in mind?" She asked, resting her head on top of his.

"Hm... roses," he kissed her shoulder. "Candles," her neck, "wine," her cheek, "a bed." He kissed her lips. She laughed.

"Planning on getting lucky soldier boy?" She teased.

"Well, no. But you know how one thing leads to another." He wiggled his eyebrows, causing her to laugh harder.

"Well, I'm sorry it didn't go as planned." She kissed him.

"Actually, when I planned it, there was going to be a fire in there somewhere."

"So you were close." She agreed and laid back on the blanket, kicking off her wet sandals. He stretched out next to her and propped his head on his elbow so he could look over her.

"God, you are so beautiful." He whispered as he ran his hand up and down her side.

"Oh yeah, because looking like a drowned rat is _so_ sexy." She joke, but Doyle didn't laugh like he normally would. He looked into her eye with such intensity that she felt her body burn.

"You are the most beautiful person I've ever met, both on the inside and out. You've captured my heart and soul so fiercely that I don't know how I manage to breath when I'm not around you. I love you so much." He lent down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed him closer to her.

"I love you too, so much." She whispered.

He kissed her again, pulling her so close no one would be able to tell where his body ended and her began. He rolled so he was on top of her, using his arms to hold most of his weight. Parting lips, he move down, trailing kisses from her chin, down her neck, to the collar of her shirt. He nipped her collar bone, bring a moan from both of them as she rolled her hips up, brushing his. He continued his path downward, placing soft kisses on her chest, between her breast, down her stomach, and over her bellybutton, until he reached the hem of her shirt. He looked up at her, asking for permission. She bit her lip and nodded. Smiling, he pulled the hem up, retracing his path on the way back up but kissing her soft flesh instead of the cloth of her shirt. She sat up and raised her arms as he slipped the shirt of and tossed the wet article over his shoulder, hearing it land with a soft 'plop.'

She pulled him closer and kissed him passionately, making a moan rise up from his chest. Her cold hand made their way down his side to the hem of his beater. He raised his arms, allowing her to pull it off and toss it over with her shirt. She moved her hands over his torso, reveling in the creases of the muscles and the ripples her tickling caresses caused. She kissed his shoulders and neck, then placed small, soft kisses over his chest. He moaned again and pulled her back to his mouth. He pulled away, breathing as hard as if he had just ran a marathon.

"God," he whispered hoarsely. "If we don't stop now, I won't be able to."

"Then don't stop." She whispered, looking deep into his eyes.

"Are you sure?" He asked, she answered him by bringing his mouth back to hers in a searing kiss. He moaned and laid her back down, moving his hands down her stomach until he reached her jeans. He unzipped them and slowly pulled them off. He kissed his way back up until they met again. She rolled him on his back and trailed warm kisses of his chest and down his stomach, following the crease of the muscles, when she reached his bellybutton he couldn't bit back the moan that rumbled into his chest. She stopped there and sat so she was straddling his legs. The feeling of her cold hands running across the hem of his jeans was unlike any sensation he had ever felt. Slowly, she undid them and move them down over his legs, she moved so she get them the rest of the way down. As so as they were off, Doyle pulled her down on top of him and rolled so he was on top of her. The feeling of his arousal against her stomach made her blush and moan. She rolled her hips up to meet his again and he nearly lost himself in the sensation.

"God, what do yo do to me?" His voice was heavy and thick. He slipped his hand underneath her and worked the clasp of her bra open. She sat up, her hair falling down around her face. Her arm crossed over her chest, shyly holding the cloth over her breast while Doyle slipped the straps off he shoulders. He stopped when he saw her uncertainty. He met his mouth with hers, slowly lying her back, then moved her arm down, allowing him to remove the article completely. He lent down and kissed one of her breasts.

"Chris." She moaned in pleasure bringing her hands to his shoulder. He moved over to the next one, giving it the same attention before moving back up to her mouth.

"I love you." He whispered as his calloused hands moved to her last remaining article of clothing. He slowly slipped them off, using his legs when his hands could no longer reach them. He fingers hooked under the elastic of his boxers, sliding them off his hips until they reached then end of her finger tips. He grabbed them and pulled them the rest of the way off, then kissed her passionately. "Are you sure about this?" He asked once more.

"Yes." She whispered before he covered her mouth once more. He moved gently, sliding between her legs and pushing them apart with his. Slowly, he entered her, pushing past the final barrier, he was inside of her. They both moaned into each other's mouth. He waited for her to adjust to him before he began the slow, gentle thrusting. She raised her hips, meeting each thrust, bringing him as deep in her as he could go. The slow pace was maddening after a while, so he sped up, eliciting moans of agreement from Ann. Her fingers clawed at his back, tracing red lines up and down. When he felt like he couldn't take it any more, he shifted so he was sitting on his knees and she was straddling him. They moved together, quickening their pace. Small gasps escaped her with each thrust and her nails dug deeper into his back driving him wild with lust. He felt himself nearing his peak and lost himself in the warmth of her core. She cried out his name as he gave one last thrust and spent himself.

Panting, he laid her down and allowed his weight to rest on top her. Sweat rolled off their bodies and shined like diamonds in the firelight. He moved so he lay on his side and held her to him, kissing her softly. Tears trailed down from their eyes. Both knowing that the beautiful moment they had just shared may be the only one they ever would. He kissed the tears off her face and rested his forehead on hers.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you to."

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"She sees the news  
Says a storm is coming  
Tomorrow this house is gone  
She starts to pack  
I grab her hand  
Let's use this bed one last time

Sweet angel, tomorrow we'll be good  
But tonight, let's sin one last time"

"One Last Time" Chase Emery.


	6. Chapter 6

This is probably going to be the final chapter... I'm warning you now, grab a tissue or two. This made me cry while I was writing it.

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Slowly they walked hand in hand back to the old truck, the rain had cleared and the beginning of pink could be seen peeking out from under the starry sky. No words passed between them as he walked her to the passenger side door and helped her in. He stood there for a moment, taking in every line and couture of her features. He leaned in, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, his fingers reveled in the softness of her skin. His strong arms snaked around her, pulling her close to him as she rested her head on his shoulder and her arms wound around his neck.

"I love you." He whispered in her hair, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. "So much."

"I love you, too." She whispered in the same strained voice. He pulled back and looked her in the eyes. Her dark orbs were clouded with tears she refused to let fall. He imagined what he saw mirrored his own. He softly brought his lips to meet hers in a light loving kiss before he pulled away and slid her legs into the truck. He closed the door and moved to the other side of the truck, eyes averted as a few tears slipped down his cheek and sniffed the rest back before getting into the driver's seat. He put the key into the ignition as he felt her scoot over into the middle seat. He turned the ignition and the engine roared to life. A small laugh escaped him before he turned to see Ann with a slight smile upturning the corners of her lips. She held his hand as he pulled out onto the overgrown dirt road and onto the highway that would take them straight onto post. They pulled up to the security station and showed their Id's. The guard at the gate handed them back and shook Doyle's hand.

"Good luck, and God bless, sir." The guard said before waving them forward. Doyle looked to Ann.

"God's already blessed me." He told her. She squeezed his hand, unable to say anything through the lump in her throat. After stopping by the barracks, so Doyle could grab his bags and change into his ACUs, they pulled into the loading area were four beige school buses sat in a single line. They were surrounded by families, friends, and loved ones of the other soldiers. Ann spotted Jane and her brother John holding each other a few feet away. Doyle turned to her and lent his forehead against hers, staring into her tear laden eyes.

"Ann, listen to me." He swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. "You have to promise me something." His voice wavered more and more with each word he spoke. "Before I go, I need you to promise me one thing." He swallowed the lump in his throat as his voice became horse with strain, "promise me that if I die, you'll go on."

"No.." She strangled out. "No, don't say that, please don't say that." She whispered as the tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Ann. Promise me." he couldn't fight down the choked sob. "You have to promise me." He whispered past his own tears. She shook her head no, repeating "I can't," over and over. He pulled her closer and gently kissed her. "Ann, you promise me." His voice grew stronger in hopes of making her understand that he needed her to answer him. "You promise me you will not die with me. You promise me you will live, and you will love, and you will forget about me. You promise me."

"I could never forget about you." She whispered into his lips.

"You have to... if anything happens, you have to go on. You have to. You have to." He wiped away the tears that fell on her face. "Please, you have to promise me." He choked out.

She breathed in deep and met his eyes in an intense gaze.

"I promise."

"Thank you." He kissed her deeply, a huge weight lifting from his shoulders. "That's my girl... that's my baby." he whispered against her lips. "That's my love." They wiped their eyes, composing themselves as much as they could before getting out of the truck. Doyle handed the keys to Anderson who, for the first time ever, kept his mouth shut, and just nodded to Doyle, setting his friend's bags down next to the couple as the sergeant held Ann impossibly close. They stood there, looking deep into each other. Saying everything they needed but never speaking. They memorized everything about the other, every tiny detail of the other's face. Every crease, every scar.

The sound of the four diesel engines roaring brought the realization that their time together was coming to an end and that they would be separated for God only knew how long. Ann was openly crying as Doyle tried to swallow down his tears, only managing to let a few slip. Harris' voice rose above the roar of the buses and the sobs of the women and children.

"Let's go!" Harris and his wife walked over to the two lovers. He put his hand on Doyle's shoulder. The sergeant sniffed and stepped back from Ann. Harris smiled slightly at him before embracing his sister in a bone crushing hug. Jane took this time to embrace Doyle.

"You take care of him out there, you hear." she told him. "You bring my husband back home." She cried.

"Yes, ma'am." Doyle nodded as he pulled back. Jane smiled and patted his back.

"I'll keep an eye on her for you." He smiled down at the small woman.

"Thank you, ma'am." Harris pulled away from Ann and nodded Doyle. He gave a short nod in reply and strapped on his Kevlar and and pulled his two canvas duffels and computer bag over himself. Ann laughed a tearful laugh as she stuffed his coat between his face and front duffel. He grinned at the sound, knowing that should anything happen, she was strong enough to survive. He kissed her as passionately as the awkward position his things put them in would allow before turning and making his way to the buses. He dropped his equipment with the rest of the company's before turning to frowning Flynn with a devilish expression on his face.

"Doyle?" Flynn questioned his friends sanity. Doyle's grin grew as he turned and sprinted back to the line of family members waving their soldiers off. He found his target, and with one fell swoop, scooped her up in his arms, spinning her around and crashing his lips into hers.

"Doyle!" Harris yelled only half-heartedly at his Sergeant, a grin finding it's way to his face as the rest of the company whooped and catcalled.

Ann laughed into his mouth as he finally set her slowly back down to the ground, his mouth held hers in a single kiss that spilled all his passion, need, desire, warmth, and love for the amazing woman who had stolen his heart and soul so completely. He pulled back, both their lips bruised and purpled from the intensity. He smiled a smile that permeated from the deepest depths of his being before pulling away and running back to his platoon.

"ANN MARY HARRIS!" He screamed from the line as his friends laughingly pushed him into the transport bus. "I LOVE YOU! AND WHEN I GET BACK, I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU MY WIFE!" He waved frantically at a laughing Ann. "I LOVE YOU!"

"I LOVE YOU TOO, CHRSTOPHER DOYLE!" Ann shouted back to the amusement of the crowd. "AND I'LL BE RIGHT HERE WAITING!" Doyle grinned the biggest he could ever remember as the doors of the bus closed and the convoy pulled away.

"I love you." he mouthed. As the bus turned the corner he could just make out her mouthed, "I love you." before she disappeared from view.

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So far away from where you are

These miles have torn us world's apart

And I miss you

Yeah, I miss you

So far away from where you are

I'm standing underneath the stars

And I wish you were here

I miss the years that were erased

I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face

I miss all the little things

I never thought that they'd mean everything to me

Yeah I miss you

And I wish you were here

I feel the beating of your heart

I see the shadows of your face

Just know that wherever you are

Yeah, I miss you

And I wish you were here

I miss the years that were erased

I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face

I miss all the little things

I never thought that they'd mean everything to me

Yeah, I miss you

And I wish you were here

So far away from where you are

These miles have torn us world's apart

And I miss you

Yeah, I miss you

And I wish you were here

"From Where You Are" Lifehouse


	7. Epilogue

Newly appointed Captain Harris stood pacing just outside the hospital waiting room. He stopped every few feet to look anxiously at the double doors with the words "Surgery" etched into the glass, then would continue his trance-like pacing.

"For crying out loud, you're digging a hole through China. Just sit down!" Robert Holt commanded his young grandson as he held his wifes hand. "You're pacing's not helping no one."

"Sorry Poppy." John bowed his head as he sat next to his wife. Jane Harris took her husband's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was well past midnight on the small post hospital and the only sound that filled the room was the pattering chorus of raindrops as they hit the window.

Thirty minutes later and no word from any of the doctors had brought the Captain back to his quick, rythmatic pacing. Robert just rolled his eyes and smiled over at his wife who had since fallen asleep on his shoulder. Jane's heels clicked along the stark white tiles as she walked up the hall with four cups of coffee in a cardboard holder. She smiled at her husbands behavior and set the coffee down on the table in front of Robert. He nodded his thanks and woke his wife up gently. Jane walked over to her husband and forcibly pushed him into one of the "lumber supportive" (aka worlds most uncomfortable) chairs. He grumbled and grabbed one of the cups of coffee, taking a huge gulp of the burning hot, bitter liquid, he coughed and choked as it seared his throat all the way down. Jane rolled her eyes and smacked him on the back of the head.

"Thank God we're in a hospital." She mumbled under her breath before blowing on her coffee in an exaggerating way. Not taking the hint, John gulped the burning drink again and made a pained face at the stainless steel and glass doors.

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A woman in crisp blue scrubs slumped out of the double doors and watched in slight amusement as the Captain immediately jumped up and met her half way. He opened his mouth to ask something but she held up a hand and interrupted him.

"Everything went fine. There were no complications, and you can go in and see the patient now." She smiled as the Captain made a bee-line for the door with his wife trailing along behind him. She smiled warmly at the older couple who made their way up to her.

"Thank you, Major." The man shook her hand firmly.

"You're very welcome, sir." She nodded and made her way to the nurses station.

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The room was dimly lit, the only light in the room coming from the fixture that sat over the hospital bed where a young woman laid sound asleep with tubes and wires that ran from her to machines that clicked, beeped and whirred. Slowly her eyes opened and adjusted to the light. A loud scrapping sound was heard as a young man stepped into the light.

"He incredible." John Harris said in awe as he held a tiny baby in his arms. He looked to his sister and brought the baby up to the light so she could see him. Tears sprung to her eyes as she looked upon the face of the infant.

"He looks exactly like his father." she spoke around the lump in her throat as she looked at the empty chair beside her bed. She cleared her throat and spoke to her brother while he gently rocked the young one. "Where's everyone else?"

"Well, Jane went to call mom and dad, and Poppy took GranGran back to the motel to get some sleep." He spoke softly. "I wanted to be here when you woke up." He explained.

"I'm glad you were." She smiled as she gently took the child from his arms.

"What's his name?" John asked as he watched his sister rock the newborn boy. She smiled fondly in remembrance.

"Robert Christopher Doyle." She spoke as tears sprang to her eyes once more. John nodded.

"A good, strong name." He agreed.

"The perfect name." Agreed a second voice from the door. Ann smiled over at him and waved him back in. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up, but I ran down to the gift shop to buy you these." He pulled a bouquet of blue violets from behind his back and placed them down on the counter before coming over to the mother and child. John nodded at him before kissing his sister's cheek.

"I'll see you later." He kissed the soft head of baby Robert before departing the room.

Ann smiled as she handed the baby over to the Lieutenant. He smiled down at the baby he held in his arms and brought it over to the open window.

"You see?" He whispered. "You brought the rain." The sky let out a thunderous boom heralding in a tremendous streak of lightning. Baby Robert didn't stir as the sky's impressive display continued to light up the sky. The Lieutenant smiled as he walked back over to Ann. She moved over and he sat down next to her.

"Just like the night he was conceived." Lieutenant Christopher Doyle smiled down at his wife while his new son softly cooed in his sleep. He kissed the top of her head and shifted the baby into her arms.

"How could I forget?" He grinned mischievously and wiggled his eyebrows. She laughed and leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her temple and held her close to him. Unable to stop his mind from drifting to the thought that he had almost missed the birth of his son, he swallowed hard and pushed the thought away, bringing his wife and baby closer into his embrace. He cleared his throat. "So, when can we try for another one?"

She laughed softly and kicked him in the shin. He winced theatrically.

"When men evolve and grow the organs necessary to carry children."

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"I hear the wind, call you name,

It calls me back, home again.

It sparks up the fire, a flame that still burns.

Oh its to you, I will always return.

... And in the hour of darkness, darlin',

Your light gets me through."

"I Will Always Return" Brian Adams


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